Chapter 146 THE BOY AT THE DOOR

Chapter 146 THE BOY AT THE DOOR
LUCA’S POV

I stood in the open doorway of Maya’s apartment with the paper bag still in my hand. The afternoon light from the hallway fell across the small boy who had opened the door. He looked up at me with open curiosity, his dark curls falling across his forehead, his eyes steady and unafraid. For a long second neither of us spoke.

He's brave and undeniably cute.

He studied me the same way I was studying him. The shape of his face. The way he held himself. The quiet seriousness in his expression even at his young age. Something in my chest pulled tight.

I lifted my gaze and found Maya standing a few steps behind him. Her face had gone pale. The towel in her hands was twisted tight. Flour dusted the front of her shirt and a streak of it ran across her cheek. She looked frozen.

I kept my voice calm and friendly.

“You must be Damon.”

The moment the name left my mouth,I saw fear flashed across Maya’s face. It was Clare, sharp and unmistakable. She had not expected me. She had not prepared for this.

I had come on purpose. I had chosen a Saturday when I knew her mother often stepped out. Because she had mentioned that her mum likes going out on Saturdays. I had wanted to surprise her, yes, but I had also wanted to see the boy for myself. Claire’s findings had been enough to confirm the child existed. But I needed to see him with my own eyes. It might make me look like the kind of man who snooped, who could not wait for the truth to be offered freely. I did not care. The distance between Maya and me had grown too wide. I needed something solid to stand on. I needed to know before I went insane. 

Maybe if I saw myself, it might ease the tension of her telling me herself. So if I saw him, she can just tell me.

Now I had it. Maya had a son. The birth records had been real. The school enrollment had been real. The little boy standing in front of me was real. And from the way she looked right now, she still did not want me to know the full story. That was fine for the moment. I would not force the conversation in front of the child. I would not put either of them through that.

I stepped inside and closed the door gently behind me.

“Hey, Maya,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I wanted to surprise you.” I added, nodding my head towards the paper bag I carried.

She still had not spoken. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Damon stayed close to her leg, watching the exchange with quiet interest.

I held out the paper bag toward Maya, the warm scent of fresh pastries rising between us in the quiet. 

I wanted to ask questions but I decided to stay calm. though her eyes remained carefully watchful. “I brought these for you,” I said in a low, even voice. “I thought your mum would be here. I didn’t know she wasn’t around today. And I definitely didn’t know the boy would be here either.” I paused, still holding the bag out, waiting for her to take it while the weight of the unexpected moment settled heavily between us. 

She took it eventually.

I glanced around the apartment. It smelled of vanilla and chocolate. Baking trays sat on the counter. A mixing bowl waited near the sink. The place looked lived-in and warm in a way my penthouse never quite managed.

“Where’s your mum?” I asked.

Maya’s throat moved as she swallowed. She still hasn't said anything since I stepped into the house.

I filled the silence carefully. “I thought she was babysitting him.” I said, looking toward Damon who was now staring at me with open curiosity.

That seemed to pull her back. She blinked, and forced a small smile that did not reach her eyes, and she finally found her voice.

“Yes…y..yes. S….she went to get something. She’ll be back soon.” She stammered.

The lie sat between us, thin but functional. I let it stand.

Damon took a step toward me. His head tilted slightly.

“Who are you?”

I crouched down so we were closer to eye level. Up close the resemblance was harder to ignore, though I kept that thought locked away. I smiled the way I had seen people smile at children.

“I’m Luca. A friend of your mum’s.”

He considered that for a moment, then nodded as if the answer satisfied him.

“Okay. Do you want some cookies? We just baked some.” He said, pointing towards the kitchen.

The simple offer, so open and without suspicion, made something in my chest ache. I nodded.

“I’d like that.”

Damon grinned and turned toward the kitchen.

“Mummy! The cookie dough!”

He ran ahead. I watched Maya’s face go pale again, the color draining so quickly it was almost visible. Her hands tightened on the towel until her knuckles whitened.

I rose slowly to my full height and looked at her.

“Mummy?”

The single word hung in the quiet apartment. Maya’s eyes met mine. In them I saw fear, guilt, and something that looked a lot like the beginning of the end of every careful half-truth she had told me.

I did not push. Not yet. I simply stood there in the entryway of her home, the scent of fresh cookies in the air, a little boy calling for his mother from the kitchen, and the woman I loved looking at me as if the ground beneath her feet had just shifted.

Whatever came next, there would be no going back to the polite distance we had been living in. The boy was real. The secret was real. And I was no longer willing to pretend I did not see it.